Owen smiled as his blue eyes met mine. I felt the magnetized pull of him, but tried to hold back. The anticipation was like tiny fireworks all along my skin, and I wanted to feel more.
He brushed my sleeve back and straightened my bare arm. His warm lips traced a light, skimming path up to the crease of my elbow. There, he let his breath and tongue tickle me until I tried to wriggle free. I did not try so hard that he let go, though.
Instead, he reached for the loose neckline of my shirt and pulled it aside. His lips seared the sensitive skin at the side of my neck. I dropped my head to one side, brushing back my hair and baring more for him to devour. Owen took his time tasting my skin, lingering to breathe tingling breaths over the warmth his kisses left behind.
My knees felt weak and my whole body cried out to press against him, but I still held back. The quiet seduction was mesmerizing, and I wanted to reciprocate.
I traced a hand up his other arm, following it from my waist to his shoulder. There, I flexed my fingers against the taut muscles of his neck. His blue eyes softened at the mas
sage, and he paused in his slow administrations to let me knead away his stress.
I was still mad at him. Infuriated that no matter what, it was his opinion that mattered most to me. Angry that even as I needed my space, I found myself running to him, pulled so close our breath mingled in gasping anticipation.
I did not need Owen Redd, I wanted him, and it occurred to me that was the harder habit to break. As if testing my theory, I singed his lips with a kiss full of explosive passion. He was the last thing I needed, but the one thing I wanted most. As my body sang out on every chord, he picked me up and carried me to the couch.
We were past need or want or the ability to hold back. We undressed each other in a fury to be closer. His warm skin against mine caused a throb of pleasure that almost pushed me over the edge. Desire took over and our bodies clasped together in perfect accordance. Owen pressed into me, his lips catching my cries of pleasure until I could no longer think, only give. He surged forward to claim me, calling my name, and I let go with a blinding starburst of release.
Chapter Eighteen
Owen
I woke up in my bed and wondered why I was surprised. It felt new and more comfortable than ever before. After the police had tossed the place again, I would have thought it would feel alien. Fresh, clean sheets had not covered the violation the first time. That morning, though, I felt more at home in my room than I had in a very long time. It was strange, but I wanted to hold the sensation as long as possible.
Then, I rolled over and saw Quinn. Her long chestnut hair poured over her pillow. I lifted my arm and felt the silken waves slip over my skin. Her petal-soft lips smiled in sleep and she snuggled deeper into bed. Her serene expression, the comfortable curl of her body, and the honey-hued expanse of her bare shoulder warmed me.
I was torn. The morning sun crept towards Quinn's face. Part of me wanted to see her wake with the warm kiss. Part of me wanted to pull the curtains and keep the quiet spell intact. Instead, her chocolate brown eyes fluttered open and focused on me.
Quinn gave a sleepy smile. "Good morning."
"It is. Maybe that's why it feels so strange," I said.
Her long, sinuous stretch tugged at me deep inside. I could not help but pull her in my arms and hold her tight. Her chestnut hair fanned across my chest. Quinn chuckled against my shoulder, and I wondered how loud my heart pounded in her ear.
"So, you slept alright?" I asked.
"No dreams, no wake-ups, it was so peaceful," Quinn said. She ran her hand up my side. "How about you?"
"Like a miracle. I even forgot about the whole police search thing for a while."
Quinn groaned. "Oh, now you've brought it up. The least you could have done was wait until we had coffee."
I let her crawl out of bed and check her phone. Her lips did not form the nervous pucker they normally did. Her calm expression seemed immune to her parents' messages.
I pulled on a pair of jeans and headed to the kitchen to make coffee. Quinn dressed and joined me, an easy smile playing around her lips.
"I'm glad to see you're not letting your parents get to you," I told her.
"I don't think they've noticed I'm gone yet," she said. "I've got running clothes in the car. I'll change before I go home."
I shook my head. "I don't want you to have to sneak around. That doesn't feel right."
"I won't. Just this morning. I've got a new plan, but like my mother pointed out, it needs to be fully formed before I present it."
"Is that why you're so relaxed?" I asked. "And here I thought it was me. So, what's the new plan? Want to bounce some ideas off me?"
Her smile was radiant. I spilled coffee grounds on the counter. As I swept them to the floor with my hand, she settled onto a stool at the kitchen island.
"I've found something I'm good at, something I can do all on my own. I'm done letting my parents hold my college classes over my head," Quinn said. "This is something I can do just for myself and it will make me independent."